


Akuma Dorimu

by LokiLover84



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:06:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3967252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiLover84/pseuds/LokiLover84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's been having weird dreams about Dean. Dean may or may not be having strange dreams about Sam. And what exactly is an akuma dorimu?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Get out.”

John’s words were clipped, his voice icy as he guided Baby to a stop in front of their hotel room. Dean’s jaw clenched, his eyes cold pieces of malachite as he pulled the handle and swung the door open, sliding out then turning back as Sam opened his own door, scowling as he emerged from the interior of the car, lit only by the lurid red flashing letters proclaiming the sleazy hotel to be the ‘Green Anchor’. Sounded more like a name for a bar than a motel, in Dean’s opinion, and he almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all. 

But he didn’t, and he was thankful for that, when Sam started to stomp off toward their room. He’d have to wait for Dean, who had the key card to the door, but Dean was preoccupied when John called him after watching Sam’s lanky frame slide away, anger oozing from every pore. 

“Make sure he understands what he did wrong, Dean. Don’t let him go out. Punish him somehow, I don’t care how, just figure something out. You’ve always had a better handle on him than I do. And watch out for him.”

Dean nodded, pulling back and shutting both his and Sam’s doors, a bit more forcefully than necessary, before slapping the top of the car twice, and stepping back as John gunned the engine and peeled out of the parking lot. 

Dean sighed, steeling his nerves as he turned to face the hotel room door and his little brother. Sam was standing with his back to Dean, his hands jammed into the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders hunched but spine stiff. Dean wasn’t looking forward to what he was going to have to do, but he’d make it through, somehow. He always did. 

He didn’t say anything to Sam as he opened the door and walked inside, trusting Sam to follow him. He let out an almost silent lungful of air in relief when he heard the door close and the chain lock slide home. Sam had never run out on Dean before, but he knew his brother, and there was a first time for everything with this kid. Sam flung himself across his bed, grabbed the remote off the side table and flicked on the TV, not even bothering to skim through the channels, just leaving it on an old black and white film. Dean stood watching him for a moment, before he spoke. 

“Sam.”

A quick swallow was the only indication Sam had heard Dean speak, but he didn’t respond. Dean tried again, his annoyance rising fast. 

“Sam.”

His voice was harder this time, toeing a line Sam didn’t really want to cross, but Dean was going to push until Sam reacted. 

“Sammy, answer me.”

The tone this time was chilling, and Sam blinked rapidly a couple of times, a sure sign that Dean’s command, in that voice, the one that Sam had dreaded hearing ever since he was a little boy, had him fighting tears. Sam wiggled a little and finally raised his warm honey eyes to Dean’s. 

“Yea?”

His voice was soft, small, because he knew he’d done something wrong, and he both hated John, and Dean, for punishing him-- he was 17, for Christ’s sake, when were they going to realize he wasn’t a kid anymore?-- and was disappointed in himself that Dean would have to hurt him. Dean loved him, and wanted more than anything to be Sam’s protector, not his jailer and the person in charge of his torture. 

But John had given clear instructions, and if they didn’t follow them, they would both pay for it later. So better for Sam to suffer at Dean’s hand than at John’s. 

“You know you messed up back there.”

Sam sniffled, a tiny, pathetic sound, and Dean felt his heart constrict. 

“Yea, I know. And I’m sorry, Dean. He just… Right in the middle of a damn fight, and he goes off on me like that. It’s not fair. So I messed up, a tiny little bit. But him yelling at me got me all distracted, and almost got you killed!”

Sam’s voice rose at the end, and Dean nodded sadly. 

“I know, Sam. It’s not fair, I agree. But you’re the one who messed up, and now you have to pay for it.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed and he swung his long legs over the side of the bed. 

“Oh yea? And what exactly are you gunna do, Dean? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit to bit to be held down and spanked like a kid.”

Dean’s nostrils flared and he felt a sharp stab of anger. It was true, Sam was a bit too big for Dean to hold down and spank, but this new defiance he was seeing, was a whole new side to Sam. This was the first time Sam had ever refused to allow Dean to punish him, even though he was far too old, and it make Dean feel something dark. 

“Sam. On your stomach, now.”

Sam’s jaw clenched and Dean could have sworn he heard teeth grinding. Sam spit out one word between the thin line of his lips. 

“No.”

Dean’s rage, and fear exploded and he launched himself at Sam. They fell back, hard, onto Sam’s bed, Dean landing with a thud on top of his brother, and the old bed giving a startled squeal of protest at the weight that had suddenly been dropped on its ancient springs. 

“Dammit, Sam. Don’t fight me on this. Roll over, now!”

Sam gasped and brought his elbow up hard, wincing as it struck Dean’s chin. Dean’s head snapped back, and Dean snarled at the pain. 

“Fine. Dammit, you wanna fight? Then bring it on, you little bastard.”

Sam’s blood ran cold as Dean grabbed his wrists with one hand, slamming them down onto the mattress and holding them there with a grip like an iron vise. His other hand came up to grab a handful of Sam’s hair, pulling his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. Dean straddled Sam’s lap, legs locked around Sam’s hips, sitting just far enough back that he kept the upper half of Sam’s legs pinned. 

Sam gasped, stunned that his shorter brother had managed to pin his so quickly and efficiently, even if Dean was older and had more fighting experience. Sam’s eyes hardened, and he bared his teeth in an almost psychotic looking grin before he thrust his hips up, trying to dislodge Dean and gain the upper hand. 

It earned him something totally different in response. 

Dean gasped as the thrust lifted him and slid him forward on Sam’s hips a little, bringing their denim-clad crotches together. 

“Fuck, Sam…”

The world stopped turning as the result of the moment dawned on them. Dean’s cheeks flushed red, but he didn’t move. Sam groaned, eyes sliding shut and turning his head to the side, refusing to look at his brother. A single tear leaked out of Sam’s right eye, sliding down across the bridge of his nose before disappearing under the curve of his cheek. Dean bent down, almost without thought, intent on licking the tear away, and soothing Sam. It wasn’t until his breath ghosted across Sam’s cheek, making Sam turn his head so fast that their noses almost touched, that Dean realized what he was doing. He stopped in shock, his eyes locking with Sam’s, their lips a hair's width apart, and Dean’s eyes were warm to Sam’s confused and panicked ones, and this was going to happen, holy fuck---

Dean’s lips slid across Sam’s, like the brush of butterfly wings, and Sam wanted, needed more…

Sam jolted awake, eyes flying open in confused arousal, spinning around the room to realize Dean wasn’t there, he was all alone, and was hard and needy as fuck, thanks to the insane dream he’d just had…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The playful little dream demon gets inside Dean's head this time... And has lots of fun! ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, now it's Dean's turn to experience what Sam has. Next chapter, we'll get a bit of a glimpse of the little pixie-sneaky dream demon, but it'll be a few more chapters of discovery for Sam and Dean before she's officially introduced. Hope you guys enjoy! :)

The sound of the hotel door squeaking open noisily on its protesting hinges had Sam scrambling to sit upright in his bed. His legs were tangled in the sheets and he struggled with them desperately, hand scrabbling under the pillow for the slender but lethal blade he kept there when Dean and their dad were gone. He must have let out a noise, because the next thing he knew, Dean was talking to him. 

“Hey, Sam. It’s ok, it’s just me.”

It took a moment for Sam to blink away the sleep clouding his eyes and the confusion. He didn’t remember falling back asleep, though he remembered being afraid to do so, horrified at the dream that he now only really remembered feelings from, rather than images. He shook his head, honey colored eyes rising to meet Dean’s face, worry etched over every feature. Sam had been raised as a hunter and had been able to come completely awake at a moment’s notice, with none of the lingering effects of sleep that he was suffering from now. It clearly worried his older brother, because in their line of family business, confusion like that could get you killed. 

“Jesus, Dean. ‘M sorry. I dunno what happened…”

Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and Sam yawned, rubbing at his eyes. The clock on the bedside table read 5:18 in a sickly neon green. Sam didn’t know what time the dream had awoken him, but clearly it had interrupted the deepest part of his sleep. 

“Hey, it’s ok. You can go back to sleep, if you want. Dad’s gone on a supply run, so we get the day off. He said he’d be back late tonight and not to wait up.”

Sam nodded, though it hardly mattered what time John got back. Sam and Dean had been sharing a room separate from John for almost three years now, paid for by Dean’s ability to hustle pool, and made possible by the fact that John was sure both the boys could take care of themselves, should something attack them in the middle of the night. 

Sam laid back down, kicking the covers back into a semblance of order, working off some of his annoyance. Dean stood and crossed the room, pulling his worn duffle bag out from under the bed, and riffling around until he found a relatively clean pair of jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. 

“I’m going to take a shower. You go ahead and sleep in, and when you get up, we’ll walk down the street, grab something to eat and some quarters to wash clothes.”

Sam nodded, turning over to face the window. He could see through a small crack between the curtains that the night was slowly turning lighter, and he sighed, closing his eyes and steadying his breathing, falling back into sleep with a practised ease. 

Dean relished the hot water as he scrubbed away the dirt and grime. He loved hunting, the rush of the ‘kill or be killed’, but getting clean afterward made him even happier. He swiped some of Sam’s shampoo, rather than use the tiny amount provided by the hotel, and moaned softly as he scratched his scalp, making the soap foam and releasing the smell of fresh rain. Sometimes he had to hand it to his brother, the fits he threw for some things were so worth it. He decided to go the full nine yards and swiped a coin sized amount of Sam’s body wash as well, which made him feel all kinds of good when he finally emerged from the shower, squeaky clean and smelling of waterfalls and mint. He’d never admit it, but it was something he could get used to, if he allowed himself. 

He dried off with one of the scratchy towels, then pulled on his jeans and shirt. He’d decided when searching through his duffel that he’d forgo both underwear and socks today, since there was no where pressing for either he or Sam to be. Emerging from the steamy bathroom, he ran his hands through his still damp hair, and looked Sam over carefully before eyeing his own bed. Strictly speaking, he hadn’t hit the wall yet where he needed sleep, but hearing Sam’s soft breaths made him suddenly tired. Not wanting to think too much about the few things he needed to accomplish later, he yanked back the covers and crawled under them, rolling onto his side to face both Sam and the door. Sleep came quickly. 

“Dean. Dean, wake up.”

Sam’s voice was distant and muffled, like Dean was hearing him through a long tunnel. 

“Sam, go ‘way. ‘M sleeping…”

“No, Dean, you don’t understand. I need you…”

Dean’s eyes popped open, and he frowned as he rolled over. He hadn’t heard that particularly desperate tone in Sam’s voice for years, not since Sam had been a little kid and had begged Dean for things, or had had a nightmare and needed Dean’s comfort. 

He came face-to-face with Sam, who was lying under the covers next to him, eyes squeezed shut, sweating as if he had a fever. Dean was instantly alert. If Sam were ill, there was only so much he could do. He’d start with the symptoms, of course, then see how much money he had left from his last bout of pool games before running out to buy whatever medicines he thought might help his little brother. 

“What’s wrong, Sam? Tell me where it hurts.”

Sam whimpered and his eyes slid open, revealing that with the exception of the whites, and a very thin line around the edges, that his pupils were blown. Dean felt a frisson of fear slither up his spine. Whatever was wrong with Sam, it was serious. 

“Hang on, Sam. I’m gunna go get medicine. If it’s really bad, I’ll call a doctor and we’ll figure something out. Just--”

Dean started to roll off the bed until Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him back. 

“Don’t go Dean. Please, stay with me.”

“But Sam, you’re sick, you need--”

Dean started to plead, before Sam’s grip tightened almost painfully and he pulled Dean back down onto the bed, throwing the covers back over the elder Winchester. 

“‘M not sick, Dean…”

Dean frowned. Clearly, Sam was burning up and he needed some kind of medical attention urgently. He cursed John silently, wishing that his dad were here. He’d know what to do for Sam, would figure out if he needed to go to the hospital and how to pay for it, or sneak out with some drugs, if that’s what it came down to. But John wasn’t here, and so Dean was stuck dealing with the crisis on his own. 

“Then-- then what’s wrong, Sam?”

Dean tried to keep his voice light. Sam’s grip on Dean’s arm lessened, and Dean tried not to shiver as the warm, calloused pads of Sam’s fingers trailed down his arm, until Sam could curl his fingers around Dean’s hand. He tugged a bit, forcing Dean to lay down or risk falling on top of Sam. Dean’s breath hitched as his brain figured out what Sam was doing a second before his hand met the hot, hard heaviness of Sam’s erect cock. 

Dean gasped, yanking at his hand, but Sam had obviously been expecting his reaction, because his grip on Dean’s hand turned painful to keep Dean from pulling away. 

“Sam what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Sam turned his eyes, full of desperation, to Dean. 

“Dean, need you, please… Touch me.”

Dean’s eyes slid shut, and he swallowed hard against the pleading tone he’d never been able to resist. The fact that this was Sam, his own little brother, not to mention that Dean wasn’t gay, didn’t even begin to apply here. Slowly, his fingers curled around Sam, and the younger brother moaned wantonly. Dean let out a stuttering breath, and squeezed softly, making Sam let out a sound between a groan and a curse, and it went straight to Dean’s own cock, bring him to half hardness. 

“Sam...I’ve never done this before. I mean, for myself, yea, but…”

Sam thrust his hips up. 

“Just, stroke it. Twist your hand. Please, Dean. I’m not gunna last long anyway. Just need this, need you. Please, Dean!”

Dean could never refuse Sam anything, and he certainly could never turn Sam away when he so clearly needed his older brother’s touch. So he started to stroke slowly, quickly learning by the sounds Sam made what he liked most. He twisted his hand on each upstroke, running his thumb over the slit, dipping his nail inside, making Sam’s hips stutter in their thrusts. It didn’t take long for Dean to become rock hard, and he leaned down, no more able to stop what he did naturally with any person he slept with than he would have been able to stop the tides. 

“Like that, Sam? Like it when your big brother strokes your cock? Feels good, don’t it Sammy? Always taken care of you, Sam, gunna do the same now. You’re so hard for me, Sam. I wanna see you cum. C’mon, Sammy, cum for me baby boy…”

Sam’s eyes flew open, he tossed his head back and screamed out Dean’s name as he came, his seed splattering into his stomach and coating Dean’s hand. Dean thrust his hips against Sam’s thigh and came as well…

Dean jerked awake with a howling curse as he came in his jeans, like a horny fourteen year old, and waking Sam from his deep slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos are my candy and comments are my crack, so would you please feed my addictions?? :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter is a bit shorter, but I promise a longer one later this week. (I can't promise a specific day, because of work and family obligations), but I shall endeavour to have it up on Wednesday or Thursday. I hope you guys enjoy!! :)

“Dean, what the fuck?”

Sam ground out, more exhausted now that he’d been yanked again out of sleep than he had been the night before. Dean coughed a bit, a distinctly desperate sound, and Sam rubbed at his eyes, trying to focus. 

“Dean? You ok?”

He asked, a bit more concerned. Obviously Dean had had a nightmare, given the lack of monsters in the room, which was something Dean never had to deal with. Which made the whole situation even more strange. Dean shook his head and crawled from his bed, legs trembling, trying not to give away to Sam that he simply needed the bathroom. He’d never live it down if Sam found out that Dean had blown his load like a teen, in the middle of a lust-filled dream about his own brother. 

Nope, that was something he’d take to the grave with him. 

He waved a hand vaguely in Sam’s direction and forced his voice not to shake too much when he spoke. 

“Nah. Just a dream. I’m gunna go shower. Feel all sticky.”

Dean swallowed a giggle at his own joke and forced himself to grab a clean pair of boxers from the duffle under his bag and walk normally to the bathroom. Once inside, he stripped, careful to wrap his cum-stained clothing in a plastic shopping bag, something that wouldn’t draw Sam’s attention, since Dean did it with all his dirty clothes. Then he slunk into the shower, sighing as he tried to use the tepid water to wash away his sins. But it was no baptismal fount and deep down, in a place Dean wouldn’t even admit to himself, he wasn’t really feeling that guilty about the dream. 

 

Aisling was having far too much fun, but she just couldn’t bring herself to stop. She was used to poking and prodding people’s dreams, playing on fears and desires, but these two, these two Winchesters, were more fun than she’d had in a long time. 

Originally, she’d been attracted because they were Hunters. She knew all about these elite searchers and destroyers of anything supernatural. They never let anything unhuman live, no matter how good the inherent person, or soul, or whatever, was. Which was why in the past century or so, she’d made it a point to steer clear of anything with even a remote scent of magic. Better to be alone than hanging around another magical creature, in case they, or the fact that there were two in one place, drew the attention of the Hunters. 

But these two were different. They drew her in, like a moth to flame, and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Oddly enough, they seemed almost...Familiar. And if there was one thing Aisling could never resist, it was a mystery. 

So, she’d trailed the two around for a bit, popping in and out of the backseat of their car,-- a beautiful black Impala Dean called Baby, and of which she thoroughly approved-- making the tiny hairs on the back of Sam’s neck prickle and Dean glance in the rearview mirror every so often, feeling as if he were being watched. 

The two of them brushed it off, didn’t even think to mention it to the other, but subconsciously, they knew there was something hovering around.

A Hunter’s instinct never truly shut down until they were dead. 

Then there were the hotel rooms. The first they’d stayed in after she’d taken to trailing them had been a huge affront to her sense and taste of decoration, and certainly not conductive to her line of work, so she’d stayed away the four days they’d stayed there. It still gave her shudders. 

But now… Now she had free rein. They were working cases, driving across the country hunting down her magical brothers and sisters, and she was trailing along for the ride. There were no more tacky hotel rooms done in blue and faded red stripes-- though the panelling and dirty rust brown or green shag carpet was bad enough-- and they went to bed exhausted after every hunt, blood-lust sated and bellies usually full of greasy burgers or limp salads-- depending on which brother you were talking about. 

The bone-deep ache of tiredness allowed her to slip easily into their dreams. 

What she found in their brains was truly magical. A need for each other that was born from tragedy-- “Dean, take your brother and run!”-- and a love that survived everything their life threw at it. 

But it wasn’t until she’d dug deeper into their dreams that she found the perfect something she hadn’t even known she’d been looking for. It was the equivalent of human birthdays, the fourth of July, Christmas and Halloween all rolled into one. 

They didn’t just need each other, they craved each other. A touch, a glance, to be secure and feel safe because the other was never far away. 

It’d hadn’t taken much to turn that need into a fire. 

She’d simply planted the thought, like a tiny seed, deep in their subconscious and waited to see what would happen. 

It hadn’t taken more than a few days for Sam to be dreaming about being held down by his brother. Apparently he had a kink. 

Dean’s dreams were equivalent to the way he always felt about Sam-- he was his brother’s protector, his problem solver, and anything Sam needed, Dean would bend over backwards for Sam. 

And wasn’t that just a delicious thought? 

She watched Dean in the shower for a bit, and decided that she’d let him recover in peace for the rest of the night. Sam had slid back into sleep, and she felt a pang of...Something as she studied his features, which looked so much younger in slumber. 

Yes, she’d give them a day, maybe two, and then she’d be back to play some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos are my candy and comments my crack, so feed my addictions please? ^.^


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aisling gets caught where she shouldn't be...

It was four days before anything more happened in either Winchester brother’s dreams. Four days where they were both starting to relax and breathe easier, though neither paid enough attention to notice that the other was unwinding, tension easing from both their bodies and the air between them. 

They’d done a couple of small cases-- classic salt-n-burn, nothing too tedious-- and covered several hundred miles, before Dean decided they needed a weekend off. They turned off their cell phones, put a couple credit cards closer to their max limit and found themselves in a local hotel that was part of a national chain. They requested extra towels, the fluffy kind that they’d almost forgotten existed after years of scratchy material, and wallowed in what amounted to the Ritz for them. The bed was huge-- a king size, but they didn’t mind sharing-- and the bathroom had more than an ample supply of hot water. 

There was even a heated indoor pool. 

Sam’s eyes had lit up when he’d glanced down the hall to his right as they were checking in and seen the unmistakable shimmery blue water through the foggy door leading out to it. When he’d asked, he’d learned that yes, it was heated, and no, there were no kids staying who might interrupt if he wanted to take a long swim. In fact, the hostess had been so kind to wave her hand when he asked what time the pool closed, as well as offered to hang up a ‘do not enter’ sign on the door, if he’d like?

Sam flashed her his most innocent smile and said, yes, please, he’d adore that. 

The girl had blushed and Dean had used all his self control not to roll his eyes as he’d grabbed their bags and headed for the elevator which would take them to their room on the second floor. 

Sam had followed, grinning at his brother when the lift doors closed behind him, rolling his shoulders in anticipation. 

“You gunna go swim?”

Sam asked, his voice a bit hopeful as he eyed Dean. Dean shook his head and Sam pumped his fist a little. Dean grinned, knowing his little brother liked it most when he was alone with his thoughts, just himself and the water. 

“Nah man.” 

Dean hefted their duffles a bit higher as the lift doors slid open and the started their trek down the hall, following the signs for rooms 200-210. When they reached their door, Dean handed Sam the pair of keycards and he let them in. Sam had claimed the bathroom first, showered quickly and emerged with a towel slung low around his hips. He’d dug through his duffel, quickly retrieved his swim trunks and slipped them on before letting the towel slide to the floor. A few more seconds in the bag yielded a pair of flip flops-- something Dean didn’t even know Sam owned-- and grinned as he headed for the door, swiping one of the keycards and winking at Dean as he slid out the door. Dean felt a surge of protectiveness-- mine!-- and shook his head as the door closed. He’d obviously had a long few days, so he grabbed a pair of boxers from his own bag and went to shower. The hot water pounded his back and made him moan as the tension left him. He stepped out, dried off and dressed quickly, then left the bathroom and went to flop across the huge bed. The thought of watching TV drifted through his head, a disjointed thought, before he fell asleep. 

 

Aisling was hovering near the ceiling, watching Sam swim laps across the pool when she felt the slight shiver that told her Dean had fallen asleep. She bit the tip of her pointer nail, wondering if she should bother him. Her eyes followed Sam’s lithe form as he cut through the water. It was hard for her to leave him, when she enjoyed seeing him doing things that kept his physical form in such good shape. But she hadn’t fed in several days, and she was feeling drained. She watched Sam finish one last lap, then disappeared from the pool room and popped in on Dean. She watched the slow rise and fall of his breathing, then closed her eyes and sank into his dream. 

It was dark. The kind of dark where light didn’t exist, that muffled sound and all hope. Then a call cut through the black, but whether it was a whisper or a scream, Aisling couldn’t tell. 

For the first time in her life, she wasn’t in control of a dream, and it frightened her. 

“Sam!”

The call came again. And again, but this time the call was a command, and slowly the dark faded to black and white. Aisling was seeing the picture of Dean’s dream in double, once through her eyes, and through Dean’s own. It was a thoroughly confusing perception. 

“Dean, take Sam and run!”

The young boy, only four or so, held the squirming bundle that was his brother close to his chest and felt the tears well up in his eyes. He didn’t understand what was happening. His dad looked so wild, so scared… 

But Dean was nothing if not obedient, so he took Sam and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. Across the front lawn, away from the house. Then there was an explosion from inside the house and he turned back, his little heart pounding with fear. 

“Mommy! Daddy!”

He felt a pang of relief when he saw his dad run out the front door and did a huge leap off the front porch. He scanned the front of the house, waiting to see his mom emerge, to come to him and tell him everything was going to be ok. 

But she never came. There was the memory of his dad’s strong arms encircling him, his voice thick with tears, telling Dean that everything was going to be ok, Daddy had them now…

Aisling felt her own tears slip down her cheeks as her heart broke a bit for the family that had been broken and had never really healed. 

Then, a rough hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, and she came face to face with a very grown, very pissed Dean. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

Aisling gaped, feeling like a fish out of water. Dean’s hand came up, hand balled into a fist, and she did the only thing she could do. 

She fled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wants Aisling dead, and she only wants to live. Who better to appeal to than Sam?

Aisling knew she was being a coward, but to be inside a dream she wasn’t controlling was a completely new experience, and then to come face to face with the owner of that dream, who looked like he’d enjoy nothing more than killing you? 

Yea, not something she wanted to stick around for. 

Plus, now Dean knew of her existence, and it wouldn’t take long for Dean to have Sam doing research. 

There were only so many beings who inhabited dreams. 

In the end, she couldn’t run very far, nor very fast. She was weak from lack of food, but getting too far from Sam and Dean seemed to drain her even more. So she stuck around, always on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Dean pulled himself from his dream with some effort. He came awake pissed rather than frightened, as he usually did when he dreamed of the night his mom died. 

But this time, there had been someone else there. A girl, a bit shorter than him, with wide green eyes and long sandy blonde hair. She’d vaguely reminded him of Mary, what he could remember of her, and what he saw each time he looked at the only surviving photograph of her, and that only pissed him off more. 

He swung his legs off the side of the bed, and quickly located a pair of jeans and t-shirt, pulling them on in record time, forgoing shoes as he grabbed the keycard and stalked out the door. He bypassed the elevator, preferring to work of the sharpest edge of his anger by taking the stairs at almost a run. He burst through the ground floor door like he was being chased by hellhounds, and rushed down the hall to the pool door, which gave way when he slid his keycard into the slot. He entered the room, immediately soaked by the humidity in the air. There was the faint sound of splashing, which echoed eerily around the room, and then Dean called to his brother. 

“Sam! Get your ass over here!”

There was a groan, followed by more splashing, and Dean stepped back from the edge of the pool, just in time to avoid getting soaked as his brother emerged from the water like a dolphin at Dean’s feet. 

“Dude, what are you doing down here? Thought you didn’t wanna swim. Though I gotta say, you’re not really dressed for it.”

Dean snarled. 

“Shut up, I didn’t come down here to swim, you bitch. I need you upstairs now. For research.”

Sam levered himself out of the water and rose to his feet, eyeing Dean apprehensively. 

“Dude, what’s got your panties in a wad?”

Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“I had a dream, ok?”

Sam ducked his head, trying to make eye contact with his brother, but Dean averted his gaze. 

“O-kay…”

Sam sounded confused, which made Dean feel like an idiot. 

“Man, it was about the night--uh, the night...Mom died.”

Sam inhaled sharply, but Dean plowed on. 

“I mean, I was watching it, like a damn bad movie that I couldn’t turn off. But, there was...Someone else in my dream. A girl, a bit younger than you, I dunno, fifteen, sixteen, and she looked kinda like mom. I mean, her hair was a bit darker, but not as dark as yours, and she had green eyes, and… Damn, I dunno. All I know is that I’ve never seen her before, and she certainly shouldn’t have been in my dream. So, get your ass upstairs and see what you can find on… I dunno, dream demons or whatever.”

Sam sighed but nodded, brushing past Dean to retrieve his towel. He rubbed it over his hair, leaving it sticking up in a million directions, then headed for the door, Dean trailing behind, feeling a bit foolish. 

 

They made it back to their room without seeing anyone, for which they were both thankful, but for different reasons. Dean sank onto the bed and flipped mindlessly through the TV channels while Sam took a quick shower, emerging still wet, but smelling more like waterfalls than chlorine. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants that he pulled on sans underwear, draped a towel around his neck to keep from dripping all over the floor and himself, then grabbed his laptop and sank into the swivel chair at the small desk. He flipped it open, powered it up, and began typing. 

Dean was starting to drift toward dozing when Sam’s slight ‘a-ha!’ had him jerking awake. He scrambled off the bed, gazing blearily over Sam’s shoulder. 

“Ok, so there’s only a handful of beings that can enter dreams. Most of them we can eliminate right off the bat, because you’d either be comatose, or dead. But this one--” He raised his finger and pointed to one entry-- “sounds like a likely candidate.”

Dean shook his head, sleep blurring his vision, the words shifting. 

“Uh, just read it to me.”

Sam nodded. 

“Akuma dorimu. Loosely translated from Japanese it means ‘dream demon’. They feed off dreams, the happier the better, though sexual dreams rank a close second. Um, they tend to actually control the dream, so that they can feed more. Makes sense, a happy or sexy dream gives them more power. Says they’re very very rare. They can only reproduce by inhabiting and, er, having sexual relations with someone they’re very close to, in a dream.”

Sam stopped reading and glanced at Dean over his shoulder. 

“Dude, you been dreaming about fucking people in your sleep, Dean?”

Dean scowled and slapped Sam upside the head, the images from his dream of his little brother rising unbidden behind his eyes. 

“Dean, please, need you---”

No. He would not think about that. He grit his teeth. 

“So, how do you kill it?”

Sam sighed. 

“Dean, if this is an akuma, then it may be the last of its kind. You really wanna destroy something that hasn’t even done anything to you?”

Dean nodded. 

“Hell yea. Damn thing shouldn’t have been poking around where it’s not welcome. And I don’t give a damn if it’s the last supernatural thing out there. I want it dead.”

Sam withdrew a bit from the venom in Dean’s voice, but nodded, deciding that there was no talking to his brother about it any more tonight. He shut his laptop, and stood up, stretching. 

“Ok, Dean, whatever you say. But let’s get some sleep before we start hunting this thing.”

Dean shrugged dismissively, walking around the bed to his side, sliding under the covers and shedding his clothes, shifting away from Sam as the taller brother slid under the sheets on his own side of the bed. 

Aisling watched from her perch near the ceiling, feeling both afraid and desperate. Dean wanted her dead, which was something she’d fight against until her last breath. She sighed, a tear rolling down her cheek. All she really wanted was to be close to these two Hunters, for reasons she didn’t even know, and Dean wanted to kill her. 

Her only options, as she saw them, were to either run and hope she got away--something she didn’t think would end well, since she knew how determined Dean could be when hunting things, and those weren’t things that had intruded on his most private thoughts-- or, she could appeal to Sam, who seemed to be the more level-headed of the two brothers. 

She wiped at her tears, and settled back, waiting for sleep to overtake the pair, so she could plead for her life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aisling introduces herself to Sam, and asks for his help.

Sam drifted off to sleep fairly quickly, his body tired from the swim, for which he was grateful. Aisling gave him time to slip deep into delta sleep before making her move. She slid slowly down from her perch, then floated over to Sam’s side of the bed. She studied his face, feeling a hint of protectiveness and pride, before she reached out and placed the tip of her index finger on his temple. She sighed as she slipped into his sleep. 

“Wha--where am I?”

Sam was confused when he opened his eyes to find himself surrounded by a multitude of flowers, in every shade and size imaginable. He breathed deeply and felt a bit dizzy when the scents of the flowers assaulted his nose. 

“You’re in my garden, Sam.”

The tall hunter whirled around, dropping a bit into a defensive stance, but it only made Aisling laugh softly. 

“Relax. I’m not going to fight you. You’d crush my flowers, you big moose.”

Sam blinked, frowning. 

“What did you call me?”

Aisling dipped her head to smell a particularly large, blood-red rose as she spoke. 

“Moose. Isn’t that what Dean calls you? Or would you prefer bitch?”

Aisling wrinkled her nose as she said it, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh. 

“It does sound a bit… Degrading. But, to be honest, I prefer Sam. It just...fits you.”

Sam nodded. 

“Alright, and you are…?”

The girl waved her hand, and hundreds of bees suddenly appeared, buzzing busily amongst the flowers. 

“Aisling. It means vision, or dream.”

Sam nodded. 

“Makes sense. So, you’re an akuma?”

She raised her eyes to meet Sam’s, and he was struck how much she resembled a mix of both Dean and himself. Her eyes were a lighter green than Dean’s, but they crinkled in the corners the same way, and her hair might be a few shades lighter than Sam’s own, but it definitely had the same slight wave at the top, which slid down into curls much like those Mary sported in the photo Dean kept. 

“Yes. Sam--”

Sam interrupted. 

“So, you’re who Dean saw in his dream.”

She nodded, and her eyes slid from his, as if she expected his next question. 

“And you’re the one who gave me that dream. The one where Dean--”

Sam stopped, his cheeks turning a pale pink. 

Aisling nodded as she laughed, a soft, tinkling sound, like the chime of tiny bells. 

“Yes, well, it’s not hard. You and Dean… You need each other. Whenever something’s wrong, you turn to each other. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for each other. And maybe deep down inside, it’s something more. After all, hunting isn’t exactly a family-friendly business. So who better to love than someone who knows the life, someone who can protect themselves so you don’t have to worry about them when the shit hits the fan?”

Sam shook his head. 

“Yea, ok, but Dean’s my brother. We can’t just--”

Aisling sighed. 

“I don’t make distinctions like that. Love is love, no matter familial bonds or blood.”

Sam took a moment to think it over. 

“Alright, but we’re getting off subject. Dean wants you dead, you know?”

Aisling nodded as a dark cloud rolled across the sky, momentarily blocking the sunlight and throwing the garden into cool shadow. 

“Yes, I know. I didn’t mean to intrude on that memory, Sam. You have to believe me.”

Sam nodded. 

“Yea, I can’t see that being very helpful to you.”

She nodded. 

“Yes, exactly. I feed off good dreams, or sexy ones. It doesn’t hurt my host, and I never give anyone dreams they can’t handle. I’m just trying to live, Sam.”

Sam scrubbed his hands over his face, letting out a huge sigh when he let them drop. 

“I know. But Dean--he may need more convincing. I mean, we make a living off hunting things like you.”

There was a distant roll of thunder and Sam gave her a look. 

“I know. It’s not fair. I’m not out for blood, or revenge. Can’t you distract Dean with a few new cases? Something good that will make him forget about me?”

Sam shook his head. 

“That’s not how Dean works, and I think you know that. Even if I kept him distracted for weeks, hell, months, I think eventually we’d come back around to you. Dean’s like a bulldog with a bone once he gets his mind set on something. He’s never going to let it go.”

Aisling sighed sadly as a few big raindrops pattered down around them. 

“Listen, I’ll talk to him, try to get him to listen to reason. Just… Do you hang around a lot, I mean around us?”

Aisling smiled and nodded. 

“Yes. That nervous feeling you get in the car, and all those times Dean glanced in the back? Your hunter instincts knew I was there even when your eyes couldn’t see me.”

Sam eyed her. 

“You don’t watch us in the shower, do you?”

Aisling laughed again. 

“No Sam, as tempting as it is…”

Sam laughed now. 

“But I’m more tempting than Dean, right?”

Aisling nodded. 

“Most definitely. Though I did watch you swim earlier…”

Aisling blushed. 

“You have a superb body, Sam.”

“Uh, thanks, I think.”

“You’re welcome. I suppose I’d better be going now. You’ve given me enough energy to last for most of the coming week. I’ll be around, though, so if you need to talk to me, just tell me. I’ll hear you. Also, I’ll be keeping an eye on Dean, so please, for my sake, talk to him. Try to convince him that killing me serves no purpose.”

Sam held up his hands as the garden started to shimmer and fade. 

“I’ll try, Aisling. That’s all I can promise.”

“It’s enough, Sam. All I ask.”

Sam slipped deeper into sleep as the garden, and Aisling disappeared.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, kudos are my candy, and comments are my crack, so if you would be so kind as to feed my addictions...? ^.^


End file.
